Being proud of Nestor

E·N·Q·U·I·R·Y
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL

Being proud of Nestor
Sunday, 07 25, 2004

The euphoria that still grips the nation now that Angelo de la Cruz is home should be tempered by the thought that $6million has been shelled out by the government for his release. The ransom has trivialized the “hostage for pull-out” drama that united the nation the past three weeks. A big let-down, if you ask me. It made Angelo no more than a commodity - a hostage for ransom - and exposed a not-too-secret approach that the Philippine leadership often adopts in handling crisis situations: an over-reliance on lots of money to get things done, as it did during the elections.

With the double-talk unmasked, the nobility of what had been done for Angelo becomes a self-serving gesture on the part of the government. It was not an act of courage but rather an act of self-preservation.

Having said that, let me focus this time on an event in New York City that ennobles us and makes us proud to be Filipino. In that city that never sleeps, where in the mad scramble to get to the top each man looks out for no one but himself, Nestor Sulpico did the nation proud by a singular act of honesty.

A cab driver, Nestor recently picked up a hedge-fund manager, who left a backpack containing $70,000 worth of rare South Pacific black pearls. Confronted with 70,000 reasons to give up the life of a cabbie in the dangerous streets of New York and live a life of ease out of that windfall, Nestor resisted the temptation of carting off the loot. The pearls would have been much, much more than enough to set Nestor up comfortably, and put him through the school of nursing he goes to at night after putting his life at risk behind the wheel.

A wag once said that Filipinos are innately honest - only because the temptation to be dishonest seldom presents itself. With what is happening in our government, I’m inclined to agree. But here is Nestor, the Filipino in a land that doesn’t generally give a damn. In that city of faceless people, he defined himself by his honesty; he had no second thoughts about returning the backpack of jewelry to its owner. Now Nestor is a celebrity and his “fifteen minutes” of fame in the David Letterman Show and a front-page in The New York Times should be able to land him opportunities in hitting it big in the big city.

I knew Nestor way back in the 70s, in those days of disquiet at the U.P. Diliman Campus. He had always been a risk-taker, mindful of the need to get out of the poverty that had hounded him since he left Iloilo. To cover up for the allowance that would not come, he took on menial jobs. The guy was a fantastic handyman; he could fix anything - from unclogging a bowl that would not flush to hotwiring a car that would not start. He helped in the Philippine Collegian as circulation manager, and the honorarium he got for delivering copies of the paper to the doorsteps of the college buildings every Thursday morning was a fortune he splurged on the amber liquid that fired up his derring-do on many a caper at the campus.

Not exactly a saint, but more of a loveable rogue, he had his own brushes with U.P. authorities, not so much as perpetrator but as victim of circumstances surrounding his membership in an organization that abounded with “seekers of the right.” I remember him sallying forth, head thrown back in reckless abandon - together with a certain Sonny who is now a topnotch lawyer engaged in ferreting out the dishonest in government, and another Sonny who is not a lawyer but nonetheless now a judge (of horseracing) - as he plunged right into the middle of some physical exercises on campus to let the off the steam of youthful exuberance.

Nestor was the hail-fellow-well-met on many a boys’ night out. And even then, he exhibited that trait of honesty that has now made him famous. Each morning after a particularly inebriated night, he had the habit of bringing to the front desk of our dormitory things that had been left behind by those who had been a little tipsy to take notice of where they placed their belongings. I lost my wallet once, or so I thought, after a hard day’s night, and who would knock on my door early the next day to give it to me but Nestor.

If Nestor was nowhere in his usual haunts, one could always predict him to be on his knees at the U.P. Chapel, storming the gates of heaven for some miracle to bring him out of his deprivation. At one time in his life Nestor found out that there could be more to life than being a handyman, so when the opportunity presented itself, he found his way to the U.S. via Guam.

Life had not been easy in New York for Nestor. He braved the harsh streets without a coat when it was cold. On many nights the manholes gave him comfort, as he courageously tried to keep his existence lean. These were the times, I’m sure, that defined his character. In those trying times, he found out what he is made of and what he is capable of. Later, when a change of fortune drove him behind the wheel of a cab, a job he did honorably, one day came to confront him with the ultimate measure of his character.

The reward of a thing well done is simply the serene satisfaction of having done it. Everything else is merely incidental. If only all Filipinos abroad were like Nestor we would not have the unsavory reputation of being the light-fingered pickpockets in Milan, the suave con artists in Roponggi, or the returning OFW from the Middle East with one hand missing. Nestor is different and, already, he is reaping the fruits of his honesty. On Wednesday, when he comes back to the Philippines for a visit arranged by the Sigma Rho and tycoon Boy Reyno - for whom Nestor worked in the 80s and who had the most influence on Nestor’s transformation - Nestor should be accorded with a hero’s welcome more tumultuous than that given to Angelo.

I am lucky to call Nestor a brod. The diversity of fortunes among members of the Sigma Rho are equalized in that trait that Nestor exhibited in New York. Nestor’s kind of honesty thrives in the Sigma Rho.

When the will defies greed, when the heart listens to the brain, when duty prevails over a chance to live a life of ease and comfort, when honesty scorns to compromise with ill-acquired pelf - this is Nestor’s heroism.



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